


Golden Rose

by AutumnisPrime92



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Pre-War, Prostitution, darker themes, dub-con, eventual gore, gladitorial arena, how you might imagine a sex slaves quality of life would be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnisPrime92/pseuds/AutumnisPrime92
Summary: No ever asked a sex slave what life in the Pits was like. It's better to keep your mouth shut and follow the flow. Sometimes, however, a rock gets thrown into the stream and causes a disruption.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is a new story I’ve decided to give a shot to. I want to try writing something a little darker and definitely more mature. This is rated M, as you know, meaning there is explicit content of sexual nature. I’m not kidding, it starts off immediately and gets worse from there. This character was also sorta created by Leonixon, just to be sure I give credit where it’s due.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! I own nothing except my own OC’s.

How many times more was she going to have to call his spike magnificent when, in all honesty, it was a B-? Scratch that, C+ at best. Giving him a B was being nice and being nice got you nowhere. That’s not how you survive.

These were the thoughts going through a femmes mind, Crystal, while the mech above her grunted and groaned as he repeatedly rocked his hips into her. He reeked with the stench of dried energon and appeared to refuse to step into a washrack before he came knocking on her door. Crystal had seen this one before, and if his exuberance and eagerness to get inside of her was any sign, she assumed he had just won a good match. Gladiators had femmes like Crystal as entertainment and that was about it, thus she could be sure any brute with a winning streak could be heard through the thin walls accompanied by vicious pounding of metal on metal. 

As was her current situation. Unfortunately, she was so caught up in her inner monologue that a large hand gripping her face and slamming it against the berth was the only way to rip her out of it. 

“What, ya bored? Not good enough for ya? I don’t remember telling you you could stop talking.” His breath was hot and stung her olfactory sensors worse than his body odor. Her processor and mouth hurriedly attempted to reconnect and talk her way out, but the hand that was slowly squeezing her face harder and harder with each passing second was making that difficult. Crystal couldn’t allow her face to be dented, it was bad business.

“No, no, not at all! You’re so good, I can’t think of what to say, I just get speechless! Please, I’m so close, please don’t stop!” Her hands scrabbled along his playing desperately while she undulated her frame underneath him, squirming and whining for more. How humiliating. 

“That’s what I thought.” He sneered, moving his hand to her throat and restarting his brutal rhythm. “You bots, can’t ever get enough. Lucky someone like me can give it to you like this. Valve so wet I might just slip out.” His smile was cruel and his excuse for dirty talk was broken up by his panting. Crystal bit her glossa to prevent herself from telling the truth. All pleasure bots were programmed to lubricate on command. A few more pleads for more, a few more stabbing thrusts and he bowed over.

Something she was well acquainted with seeped into her. It was warm and thick and it made her shiver in disgust. Thankfully, this mech didn’t believe in afterglow or extending his stay any longer than he needed to. He pulled out, tucked himself away, and cast a few credits across her heaving frame. “No need to thank me. I’ll be back before you know it.” He flashed her a crooked smile and a seedy wink.

“Thank Primus.” Crystal cooed, shuttering her optics in a dreamy gaze. He sauntered out and her face fell. “Thank Primus it’s over.” She muttered, sitting up straight to immediately inspect her valve. A silvery liquid oozed out of her but she ignored it, prodding her walls and feeling for any tears or signs of stretching. She would be sore, no doubt about it, but her valve was in tact. A blessing when your clients were all murderers and killed for money. 

Crystal stood up and stretched her arms above her helm, straining upwards until she heard a satisfying pop. She sighed in relief, rubbing her hip strut that had popped out of alignment from his constant hammering. She walked over to her door and peeked outside. Nothing but dim lighting and moans echoing off the dingy walls. Crystal closed the door and flicked the switch that turned off the light hanging over her door. It alerted potential customers whether they were available to service you or not. She would’ve clicked off the light prior to the dirty mech had he not practically shoved his way inside and immediately taken her to the berth. 

Crystal scanned the room and vented in deeply in a sigh. She regretted it, realizing the stench was staying stagnant in the unventilated space. Crystal walked over to a small fan in the corner and turned that on to try and circulate the air. It was worth the absurd amount of credits it had cost, especially when nights got warm. The room itself was dirty and Crystal was under no delusions. She lived in filth.

However, it was her filth for the foreseeable future and she would make the best of it. She knew a couple femmes that just let their room go and then wonder why their clientele suddenly dropped. People bought things with their optics first. No one buys a glass that looks broken or adopts a pet that looks sickly. Presentation was everything. To an interface slave, it was their life. The room was without clutter and she always slept on a berth. Crystal bought another berth sheet the minute she could afford one. One for fragging, one for sleeping.

Crystal grabbed a bag tucked under her berth and dragged herself out the door towards the wash racks. 

A cloud of perfume lethal enough to gag someone hit her, but at this point everyone was so used to the smell. She nodded her helm tiredly to a few femmes washing up. She took up a stall and began her ritual. First, it was washing her frame of the buildup of grime that occurred throughout the day. She scrubbed and polished and did a few paint touch ups, always maintaining delicate care to every detail. Her rose color was prone to noticeable paint transfers and was pit to take care of, but it was appealing and feminine. 

Crystal took a deep breath before sitting down and spreading her legs wide. Unscrewing a jar, she took a thick glob of an even thicker creamer and spread it around the walls of her valve, making sure to get every nook and cranny.

“Anyone seen Bluebird?”

“Nah, still finishing up I think.”

“Damn, I need her hands for this.”

Crystal calmly listened to the chatter inches away. There was no privacy in these halls, and they didn’t need any. Crystal was as relaxed as could be with two fingers in her valve while femmes walked outside the open stall. The door opened and in walked a navy blue bot. She had the body of a dancer and most likely the flexibility of one. 

“Hey Blue, can you-“ She was cut off by Bluebird frantically holding up a waving finger with a hand over her mouth. She hurriedly walked to a stall and a heaving purge echoed in the washracks. “You know what, never mind.”

Crystal gave a small chuckle to herself, removing her fingers and wiping them off on a rag. “Hey Blue, how’d that spike taste?” Crystal called out.

“Frag you.” Came a ragged wheeze, followed by another purge. Crystal laughed a little louder. Blue came by and plopped down on a bench outside her stall. “Whatever that mech has been putting in his frame, I think his transfluid is reflecting it.” She grimaced, wiping her mouth. Crystal reached into her bag and handed her a spray bottle. 

“It’ll numb you next time, you won’t taste a thing.” She gently advised, going back to her valve. Crystal took out a thin, flat object and proceeded to scrape out the cream in long, circular strokes. She inspected the mess and squinted. There was a tiny dark speck, something that was solid and moving.

“That fragger.” She grit, plucking the mass out and crushing it between her fingers. “Fragging nanotick. How disgusting do you have to be to be infested with ticks and spread them to other people.” She muttered to herself, now worriedly continuing her scraping to see if there were more. 

“Who did it?” Blue asked, gently prodding a tender dent on the inside of her thigh.

“That one mech. Green, smells, thinks his spike is Primus’ gift.” A round of “ooh”s in recognition. That was the one and only tick she found. Ticks spread viruses and that wasn’t good. Some mechs didn’t mind considering the viruses they already had, but for others, it was a deal breaker. That cost them credits, and lost credits made a very unhappy pitmaster.

Pretty soon, her valve was cleaned, tightened, and given a quick spray to help with soreness come morning. 

“Watching you do that every night makes me want to pass out. It looks so damn tedious.” Blue frowned, turning her nose up to it.

“Well, I’m glad I’m what you think of when you recharge.” Crystal smiled, spritzing herself with scented perfumes before packing her stuff up. 

“Suck my spike.” Blue retorted with no heat attached. “Then again, you’ll be doing some of that soon enough.” Crystal paused and turned back to her to see her grinning. “Pitmaster discourages showing favoritism, there, Crystal. Better watch it.”

Crystal smirked. “It’s not favoritism if I’ve never refused a client and always get paid in the end.”

“Denial.” Blue coughed into her fist, faking a few more. Crystal shook her helm, bidding a few femmes goodnight. Crystal returned to her room and sighed in relief to find that the smell had dissipated. She tucked her bag under her berth and changed her sheet before slowly coming to the light switch. She fiddled with it, unsure of whether to make herself available or close her body off for the rest of the night. She didn’t want to deter a certain visitor, not when he paid so well and made her night well worth the slow start to her morning the following day.

She opted out of turning the light on. If he decided he wasn’t in need of her services, she didn’t want to invite anyone else. She turned off her own light and finally relaxed on her berth, already feeling the drowsiness kick in and weigh down her processor. Her optics must have been closed for a breem when there was a knock. Her optics snapped open as she stared at the door. No one in their right mind would knock on a door with its light out. There was potential that a gladiator already inside might come out and slit your throat for interrupting. Crystals spark pulsed faster in anticipation as she stood up and made her way to the door. 

She gave a soft smirk when her door revealed golden armor and a tall, muscular mech that made her mouth go dry.

“It’s rude to wake someone up in the middle of the night.” She softly murmured, leaning against her door frame.

“And yet you still opened the door.” His voice rumbled, sending a deep thrill down her spinal strut. 

“What can I do for you?” She feigned innocence, tilting her helm as if genuinely curious as to why he was here. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

“I think you know.”

“And who’s to say I can service you?” Her voice had dropped a volume level, heat licking at her body the longer she stared at him and thought of the services she could give him. The gladiator hummed, glancing at the darkened light bulb and then back at her. 

“Perhaps I’ll come by later, then.” He started to turn away when she quickly flicked the light on. His smirk turned predatory and his optics darkened. He looked dangerous and she couldn’t get enough of it. “That’s what I thought.” He stepped closer to her and she matched him in stepping backwards. Any closer, and she would have to kick her fans on prematurely. He continued walking, entering her domain and shutting the door behind them, enveloping them in darkness. Crystal was fixated on his optics, blue and startlingly clear. 

He slowly walked them backwards until the back of her knees hit the berth. She subtly turned her helm backwards to see where she was and that was the one weakness she needed to show. A hand grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward against a warm chest. The other hand snaked around her waist and held her tightly against him. This all happened in an astrosecond and before she could realize it, her lips were covered by his. His kiss was demanding, insistent. It stole the air straight out of her cooling units and made her processor fog. The hand that wasn’t currently in his grip cupped the back of his neck, pressing him closer and matching him kiss for kiss. A growl deep in his chassis was her warning before he moved down to her neck, toyed a cable with his glossa, and bit down down.

“Sunstreaker.” Crystal breathed, trying to somehow close the nonexistent space between them to feel even more. “How do you want me?” She purred, nimble fingers dipping in and tracing his transformation seams.

“On your back. I want to watch you beg.” Sunstreaker huskily vented against her audial. Her tanks melted in the intense fire burning her up. He hadn’t even touched her yet and his voice alone was doing things to her that the previous mech couldn’t do with his mindless pounding. She reluctantly let go of him and pushed him off of her before tipping backwards onto her berth, sprawling out and opening her frame for him to explore her however he wanted. He had her well mapped out by now.

Taking two thighs in both hands, he scooted them backwards, hovering over her and never breaking optic contact. His hands, a killer's hands, smoothed down her legs to her calves before coming back up again. He stroked the insides of her thighs, edging close to her panel that was barely containing the build up of lubricant inside. Sunstreaker knew how to build anticipation and make her impatient. 

“Open.” He commanded roughly, taking her knees and pinning them to the berth, spreading her wide open. Crystal’s chassis was quickly moving up and down in the dark to help aid her venting systems as another burst of delicious heat crawled up into her spark.

“As you desire.” She panted, panel quickly moving aside to reveal her valve in all its glory. Sunstreaker inspected her with an artist's eye as his optics quickly darkened to deep blue. Spread out on display, Crystal couldn’t take the view of him gazing down at her and closed her optics, shoving her face to the side. For the second time that night, a hand gripped her face. Sunstreaker forcefully turned her back to look at him as he lowered himself between her legs, faces inches apart.

“Who said you could look away?” Sunstreaker quietly demanded, hand lightly wrapping around her throat in a light threat. 

“N-No one.” Crystal stuttered, hands trailing across his back and shoulders to try and coax him into returning his attention to much more important things, like the throbbing between her legs that begged for satisfaction. Sunstreaker let loose another growl from his throat and Crystal realized her mistake. “No one, sir. Forgive my mindless discretion.” 

Sunstreaker tilted his helm, carefully toying with a cable in her neck. “How badly do you want my forgiveness?” He rumbled, scraping the cable with the edge of his thumb. She shivered, legs trembling beneath him.

“Badly.” Crystal whispered into his audial fin, hands tightening around his shoulders. Sunstreaker gave a small “hmm” and let go. 

“Not good enough.” His optics pierced into her own as he waited expectantly. He tried to rise up off her when she held him back down.

“Please, please, I want it! I’ll do anything for it!” She started kissing along his neck and his jaw. “You know I would, you know all sorts of things I’ll do for it.” Crystal murmured, denta lightly scraping against the bottom of his fin. Sunstreaker snarled, pinning her back down by the throat again before kissing her long and hard. Her spark was spinning so fast in her chassis, she thought it might fly from her chamber. She was drowning in it, in him, his taste, his scent, his touch. She gave a slow grind into hips to remind him what he was paying for, moaning into his mouth. There was a quiet ‘snick’ before she felt something hot and hard right above where she really wanted it to be. She could feel her valve leaking and thought it such a shame that it had gone untouched for so long. 

“You’re driving me insane, just put it in already.” Crystal groaned, optics pleading. Sunstreaker smirked, a small chuckle shaking his frame.

“So impatient.” He purred, lining himself up. “So greedy.” He hilted himself in one stroke. Crystals helm snapped backwards as she let out a long, high-pitched moan. Her valve quivered around him in exquisite joy. He slowly began a rhythm while continuing to hotly vent into her audial. “Such a loyal whore. Always so ready for me.” Crystal couldn’t focus on anything except the divine sensation of friction. The way he almost pulled out just to dive back all the way and reach so deep had her crying out, babbling words without reason.

“Good, so good, I’m always open for you, always.” She gasped, her frame rocking in time with his thrusts that were getting harder. There was a wet squelching noise intermingled with the screeching of metal on metal that had Sunstreaker shivering. He went to no one else but her, and Primus did she deliver every single time. He paused to grind into her deep and slow before returning to his pounding rhythm. Her moans and cries of pleasure were like a sirens song to his audials, spurring him on further. He grabbed a leg and lifted it just so, changing the angle to allow his spike to brush hidden nodes that were no secret to him. Her volume went up an octave or two.

“Who do you serve?” Sunstreaker growled, feeling his overload approaching rapidly as her valve clenched around him and sucked him back in graciously.

“You, you, it’s my pleasure to service you and my aim to please y-Ah! Sir, please!” Crystal begged, unable to stop her rolling hips even if she wanted to.

“Overload. Now.” Sunstreaker commanded, crashing his hips against hers. Her frame seized up and twitched irregularly while her mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Her hands clenched the berth while a guttural wail escaped her lips, her legs wrapping tightly around his hips. Sunstreaker watched all of this unravel before he stiffened and groaned lowly, filling her valve with his transfluid. Crystal shivered, but this wasn’t out of disgust. The golden gladiator collapsed on her, steam hissing out of cracks in his armor while he got his venting under control. 

A few minutes of silence stretched on with nothing but their cooling fans blowing. 

“So..” Crystal started off, softly kissing his cheek and jaw. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Sunstreaker lifted his face out of her neck and looked at her with a charming smirk. 

“For now.” He rolled them over, lightly stroking a hand up and down her back. Her hands calmly explored his chest and abdomen, his pleasure always coming before her own. 

“To think I almost didn’t open the door.” She mused, focusing on paying special attention to his frame through her own afterglow tingles. Sunstreaker quietly chuckled, silently watching her. “Is there anything else I can service for you, tonight?” She questioned with a smile that crinkled the edges of her optics. His fingers gently teased the wires in her hips, making her jump.

“The usual.” He answered. Crystal nodded, sliding off of his hips before cozying up to his side. Her hand slid around his helm to gently caress her fingers across the sensitive slats on his fins. She watched as his optics shuttered close and he let out a deep sigh. “How much this time?”

Crystal hummed while continuing her petting. “170.” His optics reopened to look back at her. 

“That’s cheaper than last time.”

“Consider it a discount.”

“That’s bad business practice.”

Crystal smiled, shrugging. “Is it? As far as I can tell, you still show up at my door which means business is still booming.” She gave him a lingering kiss before laying back down, tracing the outline of his audials. He wasn’t the first mech to ever request staying in her berth to sleep, but he was definitely the most welcome. Come morning, there would be a neat pile of credits on a small table that would equal double the price she asked for. He was her best customer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I write this all in about two sittings. I didn't proofread either, so oops if there are some pretty bad mistakes. This is an M rated chapter. Enjoy.

Crystal mildly began to question when they would next get to go outside of the walls of the arena while sandwiched between two mechs. They required no use of her mouth, hands, or personality. Just her valve. Crystal no longer cried afterward. Being used as an object was inevitable and she knew now that it bordered on a waste of time to feel sorry for oneself over it. This was their job, their commodity that gave them the privilege of having a meal that night. Weak slaves had no place living with a collection of warriors, especially those who genuinely believed themselves to be gods amongst mechs. The strong survived, a motto Crystal reminded herself of as the two mechs released inside of her, spilling fluids across her thighs and their laps. What a couple of quickshots, these two.

“Told you they’re worth the extra coin.” One of them panted with a snigger, unceremoniously pushing Crystal off both of their spikes and onto the ground. She landed with a soft grunt, closing her panel quickly. Crystal looked up to see both of them already walking out of their room. 

“Yeah, I gotta get going. Need to shower before my bonded gets home, they can smell whore.” Cruel laughter ringed in her audials as the door closed slow enough for her to hear it all. Crystal sighed softly, choosing to stay on the ground and wallow in self-pity. Some days were easier than others. Her carrier had told her that once, she thought. When she was young and new and green. Crystal often thought being an adult was entirely unfair. Adults couldn’t hide under the bed when the world was deemed too problematic to deal with. She got up and exited the room, knowing at least one of the mechs would return shortly or it would be rented out to a new customer. 

Roaming the halls felt a lot like what it would be to be backstage to a play, should Crystal be lucky enough to see one before her time was up in this life. It was Crystal’s humble opinion that all of the minibots she saw scurrying about was only to inflate the God complex that ran rampant in this pithole. She supposed if she was constantly attended to by people half her size, she might feel like a queen herself. One of them was behind a desk with a headset and a screen displaying information across the screen at a mile a minute. His beady optics looked up and squinted. “Hey, you!”

“I’m on break.” Crystal tiredly sighed, holding up a hand. The mech flicked a hand at her to shoo her, making a sound that translated to “forget you, then”. She sat down on a flimsy mat and took out a towel, cleaning off what she could with what she had. She had already run out of cleanser. 

“Hey, Crys.” She looked up to see Bluebird approaching her. 

Crystal looked back down to her crusted over thighs. “That’s not my name.” She looked back up with a small smile. “Weren’t you told? Everyone’s called “hey you” here. Nice to meet you.” Blue scoffed, plopping down next to her. 

“Speak for yourself. I’m “legs”.” Blue straightened up and barked out a “hey, legs!”, imitating the workers who knew no one's names so called out generic characteristics. They both chuckled and Crystal was glad to talk to someone with humor. “You look like slag. Not like, you, but your face and body posture.”

“So me.” Crystal deadpanned, leaning against the wall and letting her clunk against the grimy metal. “Been rough couple of clients back to back is all.” She sighed, closing her optics and savoring the small shred of peace. Her cables and muscular struts ached and there were parts of her that burned from exhaustion. Bluebird hummed in acknowledgment before reaching into her subspace and handing Crystal a small, half-empty bottle of cleanser. 

“You’ll need this. It’ll only chip off your paint if you don’t take care of it now, you know that.” Crystal smiled and took the bottle.

“Of all the people in this place, you deserve to die least.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, it’s just cleanser.” Crystal laughed and enjoyed the way it reached deep into her core.

XxXxX

To add the cherry on top, she missed the Twins’ fight. She had serviced a femme when they were announced to roaring applause and by the time she got out, they were walking a victory lap around strewn bodies. Hundreds, if not thousands of people screamed their approval for the shed of energon and Crystal had a front-row view between some strangers legs. Highgrade, energon, and transfluid spilled in excess, the paying audience had their fill and soon began to file out of the arena when all the matches were said and done. The championship changed hands, which meant the new favorite gladiator would be given special treatment for his victory. A handful of slaves would be called and either some would come back with others slow to follow, or some would come back and others would never return. In her years of working in this underworld, she had never seen a “nice” champion. Champions got nowhere being decent cybertronians. 

Crystal held herself loosely by the elbows, people watching. Some of these people had families. She wondered what that was like. She didn’t remember her creators very well, but she knew well enough that their paths most likely parted under unsavory circumstances.   
“Fascinating, aren’t they?” The fluid in her lines froze cold upon the voice of the Pitmaster. 

“Yes, master.” She unfolded her arms and stood straight with her shoulders back. She could feel him, his very presence shadowed over her own. She felt like she was under a microscope as the astrokliks ticked by. Finally, he shifted and moved to stand beside her, his attendants not far off. 

“But also boring, are they not?” He sighed it, like the statement posing as a question was a real shame. 

“I suppose it depends on the perspective, my master.” She bit her glossa too late. The Pitmaster hummed curiously, turning to look at her. She kept her optics downcasted while he began his circles, slowly stalking a ring around her. “Permission to explain, my master?”

“Go on.” He amusedly drawled, raking his optics calculatingly across her frame. 

“It depends on the life that you live, I would suppose. In comparison to you, they must be boring. They are ordinary, and you are not.” He stopped behind her and slowly inhaled. He caught something she didn’t and if she could sweat, she’d be drenched in it.

“Is that what interests you? Ordinary?” He curled slender fingers around the back of her neck, softly stroking the thin plating with a clawed tip. “Is that what you crave? The mundane? The repulsively normal?” He softly spoke in her audial, lips slightly grazing the metal and sending acid burns through her spark with each contact. She swallowed.

“No, my master. My place is here.” Perhaps a newer slave would’ve confessed. Crystal couldn’t tell if that’s what he wanted. She could make him hear a noise of contemplation before he let her go. 

“Then, in that case, you’d best get back to your place. You have gladiators who’ve earned a little comfort after their hard-fought battles.” His words rolled off his glossa like smoke and she repressed a shiver. 

“Yes, my master. At once.” She bowed low before quickly walking off toward her quarters. The whole time, she felt like crying, but tears were pointless here. Only the strong survived.

Crystal’s one reprieve was that the champion did not request her that night. There was only one champion she wanted to service. Whether he’d actually come or not was a coin flip. Crystal both hoped someone would come to her door to ensure she would make credits and hoped everyone was too injured to even think about interfacing. Work was always a tightrope she walked on and every night seemed to teeter to the opposite end. Could she call this work? Wasn’t work supposed to be a job you resented, but felt satisfaction from the rewards of your hard labor? Was work supposed to be your choice? Crystal snorted at that absurdity. Choices, like she could ever make choices that would matter. They were stripped away. Her ability to procreate had been destroyed when her frame had undergone reformatting for her new role as a pleasure bot. Her comms were blocked to prevent contact from the outside world. Her credits were taken every night, she drank the energon that was provided to her without question, she did as was asked and told. She even had to request a color change if she wanted to change her paint job. Crystal shook her helm to clear her thoughts. The thoughts she was having today were dangerous and she needed to stop or else risk losing her mind. 

Or life.

XxXxX

Crystal had been dreaming of space sharks circling around her in an opulent sea. The color of gold was so intense that she couldn't see her own hands through it and the waves around her reflected light so brightly it blinded her and left her disoriented. A knock on the door jolted her out of being eaten and landed her back in her dark room. She groaned, cursing the disturbance on the other side of the door for ruining her sleep cycle for the rest of the night. Perhaps she could pretend to still be sleeping-

There was another knock. Damn it. She got up heavily and made her way over, opening the door a smidge to look out the crack. It could’ve been worse, really. Like the Pitmaster. In all honesty, she couldn’t be too mad. She had been wanting him to come a little while ago. That was before she fell asleep, of course, but he was here now. 

“You look like slag.” 

Crystal gave a dry smile. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today. Anyone tell you you know how to make a femme feel special?”

“Not recently, but I’m hoping you will.” Sunstreaker rumbled. How could she say no? He was polished and whatever wax he used had a heady scent to it. After her day that she could confidently file under “kinda slag”, she had reached a certain meter of tolerance. Crystal grabbed him by his collar and pulled him into her doorway. It was just unexpected enough that he stumbled off his center of gravity and followed her into her room. He recovered quickly and grabbed her by the hips, pivoting her and pushing her flame flush against the closed door. “You seem tense.”

“Damn right. For being so late, you owe me.” Sunstreaker rose an eyeridge at her declaration. 

“I’m already paying you.” Crystal rolled her optics and placed a hand on the back of his helm, pulling him into a kiss. 

“And talking too much.” Crystal kissed him again and this time he was ready. Sunstreaker was quick to takeover, strong hands taking her by the forearms and holding them above her head. His glossa slipped into her mouth, tasting her and coaxing her to bend to him. She had been so forcibly polite to so many people that she didn’t feel like bending yet. She tried to get loose from his grip, but she didn’t have the strength or the leverage to do so. Sunstreaker only held her with a tighter grip. In response, she started to squirm, and that escalated to her pushing and thrashing with whatever body parts she could utilize. There was a growl and a hand around her throat before her helm collided with the wall and lips were on her again with more heat. A little dazed from the bash, she felt his other arm abandon her arms and cinch around her waist, pulling her firmly against him. She loved feeling the strength in his frame, the way it seemed to reverberate off of him in waves. Her hands went straight for his abdomen, feeling his frame as she made her way up his chassis, around his shoulders, and down his back. She ground the tips of her fingers into his back struts to claw all the way down. 

There was a small groan before she was ripped away from the door and practically thrown onto the bed. Rose colored optics gazed into blue ones and she gave a sensual smirk, licking her lips. His optics flashed as he got on hands and knees over her, covering her body with his. He dipped down, leaning in for another kiss, nipping her bottom lip. He eventually trailed down her chin to her neck while her hands roamed, feeling all that she could from this position. In a strange turn, he kept moving downwards, kissing along her sparkchamber and down to her stomach. 

“What’re you…?”

“I owe you, remember?” He remarked, letting his denta graze along the arc of her hip. Hands smoothed their way up her legs, edging between her knees and feeling along her inner thighs. Crystal smiled, letting her helm fall backward into her blankets and her optics slip closed. Her legs were spread wide apart, hands pinning her knees against the berth. Warm breath ghosted across her plating protecting her valve before a hot glossa laved across it. Her hips arched as much as he would allow while her plating snapped open. More warm breath puffed against her exposed opening and she couldn’t help but squirm as a small trickle of lubricant beaded up and began to leak out. Sunstreaker’s glossa dipped in to lick it up before retreating. Crystal clenched her jaw shut to prevent making a noise.

Sunstreaker started up his small kisses again, planting them on her thighs and around her valve, but never touching. Just close enough to make her lose her mind. When he had her on the precipice of begging, he finally slipped his glossa in, smirking when the action elicited a gasping moan. He continued at a lazy pace, keeping her legs firmly spread apart while tasting her at his leisure. Crystal couldn’t stop the airy whimpers and simpering moans that just kept coming. The energy building in her frame had her moving restlessly, her body twisting and arcing in response to each press of a glossa inside her valve. Slyly, Sunstreaker lightly flicked over her anterior node. Her body jolted like it had touched an exposed socket. 

“Oh, do that again.” She moaned, frame steadily getting uncomfortable to live in as the heat roasted her. Her fans were already blowing high and this was just the first course. Sunstreaker chose to ignore her and her pulsating node, going back to her valve and lapping up the lubricant that refused to stop flowing. Crystal whined, unable to do anything to coax him otherwise. She lifted up on her elbows to look at him and just as she opened her mouth, he planted his mouth on her node and gave a devastating suck. Crystal was literally knocked flat on her back as a sharp cry escaped her, followed by more as he devoted all attention to her node. A few more licks and she was catapulted into release, knees shaking against his grip while hands fisted blankets. She was pretty sure she said his name somewhere in there, probably. Her frame collapsed, twitching while she panted heavily, fans blowing loudly to cool her down. “Well...that is a high bar you have set for this evening.”

Sunstreaker chuckled quietly, climbing up her frame to leave another, smoldering kiss. Crystal grabbed ahold of him, clutching his shoulders while her legs spread to give him room to fit, one leg slowly wrapping around his hip. Crystal broke the kiss, pleased to see a hunger in his optics. “What else can you give me?” She asked, cheeks flushed with energon while her fingers softly traced around his audial fin.

“Greedy little pleasurebot.” Sunstreaker softly murmured, one hand drifting towards their hips. His own plating opened, revealing his aching member. He pressed it against her opening and she hissed pleasurably at the heat. “Is this what you want?” He slid his length up and down against her, denying her any penetration while lubricating himself. She shivered as he stimulated her anterior node. “Have you forgotten my profession? I will give you nothing.” He lined himself up. “But I will take from you-” He swiftly slid inside, filling her up to the hilt with their hips pressed against one another. “Everything.” Crystal vocalized her satisfaction and held onto him. He started off rough, giving her no quarter. He pressed her hips against the berth so that she had no choice but to simply take him. Crystal found the air around them suffocating and thick with the scent of interface as he pounded into her, his spike repeatedly delving in and out of her valve. One moan was swallowed up by another, her mind growing hazy the more she focused on how her valve gave way to him. Her valve accepted him in with no resistance and tried to suck him back in every time he pulled out. With each thrust in, he pushed more lubricant out, fluid staining their hips and thighs. He abruptly stopped, grinding into her. “You should see how naturally you take me in.” He pulled out almost entirely, leaving in the tip, before pushing all the way back in slowly, letting her savor the stretch of her valve around his spike. He repeated this a few more times before increasing his pace back to original. The wet, slick sounds of metal slapping against one another and her valve taking his spike deeper each time was destroying her, threatening to break her apart and put her back together again. Hot, everything was so hot and she could drown in this forever. 

Sunstreaker pulled out and flipped her over, shoving back in and resuming his rough rutting. Crystal wasn’t sure if what she was doing could be considered screaming or not, but it seemed to spur him on further. He held her hips firmly, pulling her into each demanding thrust. Each rocking of his hips was accompanied by a grunt or groan. He pulled one of her legs out and up, crashing his hips into her from this new angle. Crystal’s glossa lolled out, her optics completely unfocused as she gripped the berth underneath her, swamped by the sensation fo his spike entering her over and over again. It felt like an eternity and he simply would not stop moving inside of her. Three deep thrusts and she was shattered, her voice giving out as she screamed his designation into the flimsy sheets beneath her. Sunstreaker groaned, his helm falling backwards as he continued to thrust into her tightened valve and sought out his own pleasure. He stiffened, spilling himself inside her while continuing to rock into her. He slowed, hips twitching as he jerked from his spike being overstimulated before he finally pulled out. A mess was an understatement. 

Crystal had remained unresponsive since her overload. He panted heavily, nudging her shoulder. Her optics blearily opened, darting back and forth, unable to focus properly. “Damn.” She simply stated, vocalizer laced with static. Sunstreaker huffed a laugh, coming up to pull her into a hold, softly stroking her back. 

“Is my debt consider repaid?” He teased breathlessly. Crystal managed to nod her head yes. She looked ready to fall into recharge immediately. She jerked, optics reopening. 

“Services?” She drunkenly mumbled, looking at him. “Need service?” She asked again. Sunstreaker nodded. Crystal took her shaky hands and placed them on his fins, softly petting them and tracing abstract patterns like the night prior. “Congratulations on match.” She tiredly murmured, a hand softly caressing his cheek before lowering down to his neck. Sunstreaker by this point had closed his optcs and let her do her job with a contented sigh. One optic opened upon the congratulations. 

“Do you say that to every client of yours?”

“No. Just the champions.” She smiled, continuing to spoon him until they were both deep in recharge.


End file.
